Hrothbert Of Bainbridge
by lacinda
Summary: A Cursed existence, betrayal, and amends.


Title: Hrothbert of Bainbridge

Summary: A Cursed existence, betrayal, and amends.

Word count: 4,486

Rating: Pg-13

* * *

Six hundred years was a long time, long enough to suffer for a crime, especially one he didn't commit. He was no innocent far from it, but then again there were not many innocents in his day of age.

He remembered the shock of the wardens arresting him, the quick execution of Winifred. His sweet poor Winifred, deceived by her lover to scheme against him. At least her death was quick, he thought.

Her lover, her betrayer, the last thing he did was kill him. Unfortunately it was after he cut his tongue out, unable to defend himself, he was bound to his skull.

They bound him, the cuffs around his wrists anchoring him to this plane. He could still feel as they lashed him for killing Winifred's lover, collecting his blood for their spells. He felt the axe as it separated his head from his body.

After that things became confusing, he could hear but it seemed far away. He could not see even though he strained to.

They would call his name and he seemed to form at least he think he did but he could not stand. As time past he could since his hands, he felt for his face to see if they had blinded him but he could not touch his face. Could he no longer even touch himself. A bit confused he tried to touch his chest.

He felt his sternum and the rags that were once whole. Frighten he slowly brought his hands up his chest until he reached were his neck should be but wasn't.

He wanted to scream, but all he could hear was a mumble screech. He remembered he had no tongue, he stopped screaming. The mumble stopped. He screamed as he rose on his hands and knees beginning to searched for his head.

He could not feel the floor but sensed that it was under him. He began searching in a circle slowing going outward as he screamed, He new he was screaming he could hear it but his ears were with his head so he had no idea in what direction to search. Was his head even in the same room or was he the head having his body search for him or was he the body searching for his head.

Then he heard a wrenching sound. He stopped screaming was some one their. He could hear some one moving but they did not speak. He kept searching for his head.

Time passed but he could not find it. Finally a voice spoke, but it was muffled he could not understand what they were saying.

He was then compelled to stand and walk forward. His hands raised and grasped some thing in front of him. Hell's bell, his head it was sitting on something, a table. He felt his head it was now a skull. He had no eyes to see, ears to hear, nose to smell, nor tongue to speak. If he had eyes he would weep.

He lifted his head, at least part of it. His skull was still on the table but he could feel a skull in his hands. Could a soul be split or because he new he lost his head, did he make the skull in his hands.

He cradled the skull in his arms. He was a ghost, when he was living he had met ghosts that had been decapitated and they had there heads on their shoulders. It was a head and not a skull, he remembered that.

He turned the skull around and put it on his shoulders were his neck should be. It rolled forward back into his arms.

He screamed his frustration. As he screamed he heard the muffled sounds of someone leaving. He was now alone or at least he could not hear any one else.

He sat as best he could on the floor. He held his skull on and willed it to attach. He put his frustration, his anger, every emotion he had left. Every bit of will left in him to just keep his damn head on. Even if he never had use of it again, he willed it to stay just so he would not loose one more part of him self.

His very heart was ripped from his chest first by Winifred and then by the wardens. He would not loose his head.

Time passed, it seemed to crawl, the only way he new the passing of it was every now and then some one would enter were ever he was and then leave. It was not always the same person for every now and then some one would wrench after entering. A passing thought accord to him. At least he could not smell the stench.

Slowing he imagined his muscles slowly growing over a reformed neck reattaching to his skull. And then he could feel it beginning to happen. As slowly as it had began, he was able to fuel it faster. He was no longer afraid that his head would roll off were he could not find it.

His will the one thing he had left. Fueled by this one success he began willing his eyes to grow so that he might see.

Slowly they formed but still he saw only blackness. But then why would someone waste touch light on a ghost. He started forming skin around his reformed muscles, creating ears as he did so.

Until the day he heard a door open turning towards it he saw the flicker of torch light. The first sight he saw since his death appeared to be a monk.

The monk entered the room, "You have changed much since I last visited you ghost. Do you know were you are."

He had thought he was under the High Council, in one of the deeper dungeons. But they would not be guarded by monks. He shook his head from left to right.

"Can you not speak ghost?"

He answered by silence.

The monk entered further in to the cell. "Your cursed skull was brought to us by a novice. Some decades ago. It took us time to learn how to summon you from your skull. Hrothbert is the name inscribed on it. Is that indeed your name."

Nodding he stood and walked to were his true skull laid. In the torch light he began reading it as the Monk spoke.

"It says that you committed a great crime against nature. But at the time the Head of the Monastery, a true Holy man meditated and prayed over the matter. He believed in his heart though you may have been a hard man this punishment was not just. I believe it will not be long till you can speak Hrothbert till then if you wish I will remove your skull to my office their you may see sun light or walk trough the wall into the court yard."

He nodded quickly as tears came to his eyes. He followed the monk as he removed it from the cell and walked through the halls into the sun light.

* * *

Time in the Monastery passed quickly or at least it did to him. As he regained his voice he spoke with many of the monks. A few trusted would caring his skull to the library and to the garden and back.

He learned to further manipulate his appearance. To an outsider he was just another monk.

It was too good to last, dead but a century, rumors of war came to the Monastery. The monks prepared for a siege.

He offered to write spells to ward the walls but the monks would not hear of it. No witch craft would be used.

He watched as his friends were slaughtered, for the first time he entered his skull. It was a refuge in which he grieved.

* * *

His skull was tossed around a strange trophy to the unlearned soldier. He could feel his skull being used as a toy, tossed between one group of soldiers and another fighting over who would keep him.

Until it was stopped by an officer, His skull was taken and examined. It was a strange sensation to be turned upside down. At least this one was being careful if he had a stomach he would have been sick from being tossed around.

He soon found himself being handled by a wizard. He could feel the magic in him.

For the second time he was summoned, "Hrothbert of Bainbridge, I summon thee, Again I say Hrothbert of Bainbridge I summon thee."

Unable to resist the summons he excited his skull, appearing as he did when he met the monk.

The wizard recoiled from the sight, before him appeared a skeletal body, bloody and bruised, in filthy rags.

"So this is the great dark sorcerer who even in death escaped the High Council. Well, speak ghost."

He felt no compulsion so he moaned a response.

The wizard frowned, "There was no mention of them removing your tongue. Open you mouth ghost."

He opened his mouth and the wizard saw for himself that he had no tongue.

"Hells bells, what good are you to me if you can not speak. Return to your skull ghost."

He quickly did so. Safely in his skull, for the first time in a long time he wished he could effect his surroundings. He would trip up every soldier that touched his skull so they hit their heads and were dizzy for days.

He squashed the rage he felt for the dead monks, they would not want revenge for their deaths. They were holy men not he. He would allow the rage to pass thru him in their memory. It was the only thing he could do for them.

The wizard kept him in his saddle bag. He was not removed for the rest of the campaign.

* * *

The wizard soon traded him with a hedge witch.

For the third time he was summoned. He appeared as he did before the wizard. The witched cackled.

"A smart wizard you are, hmm. No tongue in your mouth? Hmm? I command thee to speak Hrothbert of Bainbridge. Tell me are you guilty of the crimes you were bound for!"

He was compelled to speak. He fought it, till he ground out, "No."

The witch was shocked. He watched as her face palled. "By all that was holy what fools were on the High Council. Answer me ghost!"

"I know not."

"Over a hundred years have passed since your death where were you?"

He sighed and slowly began to change his appearance to how he was at the monastery. "After my death the first thing I remember clearly is meeting a group of monks. The wizard before was with those that slaughtered them."

The witch nodded her head, "return to you skull ghost."

* * *

As time passed he was sold, traded, lost and on occasion forgotten as he passed from one owner to the next. Some were fools other scholars, good, bad, evil. All summoned him and commanded.

He learned many things ordered by his masters or to stay off boredom. More often than not he was locked away only seeing and speaking with his owners.

He would create spells and give advise when commanded. Try though he might he could not fight the compulsion to obey. He did lose a few masters who were truly cruel and evil when they relied to much on him.

He learned to twist things but more often than not he was just a slave.

That is until he was command to tutor one young boy. Who's parents had unfortunately named him, Harry.

The name grew to his liking.

* * *

He felt more alive than he has in six hundred years. Being with Harry is so different, time no longer flies by but seems to pass at a normal rate. Though Harry is the keeper of his skull he does not make himself his master. He keeps himself true as the keeper of the skull.

His very soul feels lighter. Hell's bell he has known joy, laughter and fun in Harry's keeping.

He would truly be happy if that fool boy wouldn't get beaten up at least one day a week. Only since he met Harry has he wished he was corporal just so that he could put himself between Harry and the trouble that seems to follow him around.

Perhaps he should convince Harry to buy a very large dog. He was sure he could train it to protect Harry and name it Trouble for spit.

That or marry that Lt. Murphy perhaps she could keep him out of trouble. On second thought no, Harry just seems to drag her into trouble with him.

He hears Harry enter the outer office. Only hearing him he walks though the lab wall to speak with Harry.

"I see that you are in one piece."

"I do not get beaten up by just going to the grocery store, Bob."

"Last week.."

"That! Was a fluke."

"That could happen again."

"What would you have me do?"

"Perhaps a dog would help."

He watched as Harry turned and looked at him with in disbelief.

"A dog, Bob. I have enough trouble feeding myself at times. Not to mention I'm out and about half the time. I couldn't look after it, not to mention train it."

"The point of the dog is to go with you for protection. You would save enough on healing potions to feed the beast and I can help you train it."

"No, Bob"

"And if I were to provide you with a second steady income, were you can go gallivanting off as a knight errant with out a care for money, what then?"

He watched as Harry stopped unpacking the brown grocery bag, turning to look at Bob with a squint.

Harry raised his hand, holding up one finger, "Point one, how can you contribute to the house hold, Legally! And Two, why haven't you mentioned it before?"

He rocked back on his heels, "You wanted to provide for yourself Harry. With out any help, I remember that speech quit well."

"I didn't want any help from Uncle Justin's estate!"

"That estate was half your Mothers, Harry."

"Blood money."

"Most of it was not."

"Never mind that, answer the rest of the question."

He blushed, "Ghost writer, Harry. I can provide you with multiple manuscripts that you can have published, in any genera."

"How do you know they would be published. Don't get me wrong I've always loved your story's."

"I have done it before."

"Who?"

"You would not know them they were some of the first romance novels published."

"Hell's bell, Bob. You started trash novels!"

"I did not!"

Harry collapsed in laughter.

"It isn't that funny, Harry."

"Yes…., yes it is."

He smiled, "I will concede the point if you get the dog."

Harry wiped the tears from his eyes, "why is it so important to you?"

"I can not protect you, but a well trained dog can."

"We con not offered a pure bred, Bob."

"We don't need one, take me with you to the pound and get the one I tell you to."

"I'm going to regret this."

"No you wont, Harry, no you wont."

* * *

The great beast was a mutt, and best of all it listened to him. It followed Harry's instructions of course but it listened to him first.

Harry wanted to name it Mouse. He wanted to call it Trouble. It ended up being called Beast.

It seemed to fit.

He had Harry buy an old mechanical typewriter. It took a week to enchant it but it was worth it. He could dictate to it, while Harry slept. With in a week a manuscript was ready to be sent out. Which caused an argument.

"Bob, I am not putting my name to that."

"Then what good was it for me to write it."

"That would be fraud."

"Then put a pen name on it Harry."

"I would than be gaining on your labor."

"Again that was why I wrote it."

"You are not my slave!"

He backed up, "Ow, Harry, I wrote this for you. A gift, not a chore, or by command, to see you go with out the basic things you need is a like a knife in my chest. Besides, I have no need for money, you do. You are my friend, Harry dare I say family. It is my right to bestow gifts on you. One of the few that I have Harry."

"Hells bell, Bob, yes your family. I just wish.."

"I know."

"How about a pen name now and when, We, have the money creating you legally?"

"Harry, it seems quite a silly thing to waste money on, I'm a ghost."

"Humor me, Bob."

"It will be your money.."

"Our money."

"On one condition."

"Name it."

"Only after you have five years worth of money in saving, and I mean what I think you should need for five years."

"Agreed."

The manuscript went out the same day by fed-ex.

* * *

He heard a commotion in the front room. Beast was barking like made.

He went to see what was going on. Lt. Murphy and her partner were helping Harry to the couch. They both saw him walk thru the wall. Their yes were big as saucers. He did not have time for this Harry was unconscious between them.

"What happen to Harry."

Murphy gapped at him, "You.. The wall."

"Yes I'm a ghost. Now tell me what happened to Harry so I can tell you what to do."

"Tell us what to do!" came from the partner.

"Yes, I was a healer. Do you know how to heal a wizard now answer me!"

Lt. Murphy stood up straighter. "He hit his head he demanded to be brought home instead of a hospital."

"Good," he said, "They would not be able to help him. Bring him to the lab, place his hand their."

They dragged Harry to the wall and placed his hand were he pointed. The lab door swung open.

"Place him on the table. Lt. Murphy if you will take that cauldron and fill it three quarters full with milk."

As she left he commanded her partner to start the fire under the tripod.

He put his hand in Harry's head and slowly went down his length scanning him for spells and other injury's.

Murphy re-entered the lab, "What are you doing."

"Scanning him for spells and injury's. Put the cauldron on the fire and do exactly as I say. Harry's life depends on it."

It took nearly an hour for them to brew the potion. Once ingested he had them carry, Harry up stairs and put him to bed."

Lt Murphy and her partner prepared to leave.

He stopped them, "You can not leave you will have to look after Harry."

Murphy quirked an eyebrow up, "I think you can look after him just fine."

"And did you not notice that I can not touch nor move any object Lt. I am a ghost."

Murphy frowned, "I have to get back to my daughter. I suppose we could call an ambulance."

"No! Harry is a wizard he can not go to a hospital."

The partner spoke up, "I've seen him at the hospital."

He snorted, "When he was awake an able to control his magic. Electronics do not mix well with magic. He would blow the generators and any one on life support would die."

"I'll stay Connie, you go be with Anna."

Murphy nodded her head and left.

"You have a name Ghost."

"Harry calls me, Bob."

"Well you can call me Sid. So what do you need me to do."

"If you would feed Beast. I am sure he wants his dinner. Then if you wish you may sleep on the couch. I can wake you if Harry needs anything."

"What about you?"

"What about me? Sid."

"When do you sleep?"

"In the since you mean I don't, I am a ghost."

"Right, point the way to the dog food."

He lead him to the kitchen.

* * *

Harry was shocked to find Sid there when he woke up. The three spoke for quite a while Sid seemed to find it easier to talk to Harry than he did before. After all how could he think him a crack pot when there was a ghost right in front of him.

Lt. Murphy came by later to pick him up when he called for a lift.

Harry was surprised and disappointed when Murphy did not remember Bob or the night before. As far as she was concerned she dropped Harry off and Sid stayed to wake him every couple of hours.

He was furious. How could this woman not accept Harry for what he was. She would only allow herself to see the whole of him only noticing parts of him. He hoped for Harry's sake that her partner Sid did not have her selective amnesia as well.

* * *

Time passed not only did the publisher like the novel sent them but made a contract for another three books.

Beast became an excellent guard dog. Even the Warden Morgan stepped carefully when around him.

Every thing was going well, that is until a certain hedge witch walked into the Wizard Harry Dresden's office.

He new who she was the moment she entered. He warned Harry to send her away. But he was unable to.

The first words out of her mouth ensnared him, "Did you know Wizard that your Ghost is innocent?"

"What?"

He walked out of the lab, "Send her away Harry, she has nothing to say of consoquince."

Harry looked at Bob, pointing at the witch, "She says you innocent."

He sighed, "Her word against the most powerful Wizards and Witches in the world. It means nothing Harry. Let it be."

Harry was shocked, "You new."

"How can I not know I'm innocent. The knowledge did nothing for me six hundred years ago it will do nothing for me know."

"You could fight it, Bob."

"Harry, the only two people who knew, who could prove my innocent are not only dead but arranged my sentence."

"Who were they, Bob."

"It doesn't matter."

The witch interrupted, "It does, It took me since the time I lost you."

"You bet me on a pig race."

The witch had the grace to blushed, "It was fixed, I've arranged for a hearing."

"It will change nothing."

The witch stood straight, "It will at least give you the freedom to haunt as you wish with out obeying a master."

Harry turned to the witch, "When and where is the hearing."

The witch gave them the information and left.

Harry stormed into the lab, "Why didn't you tell me!"

"It would have done no good, Harry"

"Where you ever a dark sorcerer?"

"Harry, I have killed. I have ordered others to kill. I was a Lord, protector and judicial of my lands. I have never used magic to kill, but then I have never needed to. A sword or arrow was just as good, cheaper."

"Your tomes?"

"Theoretical mainly, how could I fight, protect against what I did not know."

Harry nodded his head.

"Who framed you? Please Bob it will come out tomorrow."

He turned away from, Harry. "Winifred and her lover."

"I though she was your great love."

"So did I."

* * *

In the morning Harry took bobs skull in front of the High Council. Not one of them had been on the Council when Bob had been tried.

There was a small table in front of the council, Harry placed the skull there and stood behind it.

Ancient Mia called for Bob to appear.

He did not.

Harry asked him to.

Bob appeared as he was first summoned with out his head.

Harry gasped.

The Merlin demanded Bob to pull himself together.

"It took me fifty years to learn how to reattach my head another ten to reform my tongue. What do you want of me now."

Ancient Mia stood, "Hrothbert of Bainbridge you are brought before us for the reason that the previous Council did not be spell you to speak the truth. Your skull is placed with in a truth circle. Did you commit the crimes you were punished for."

He fought against the spell but was forced to answer, "No."

Ancient Mia sat down pail, in fact all of the council were pail. They had all heard of the story's of the terrible Sorcerer Hrothbert of Bainbridge. And they had believed them with out proof.

The Merlin spoke, "Who committed them?"

"No, one."

The Merlin slumped in his seat, "How were you convicted?"

"I know not I was not there."

Ancient Mia spoke, "Do you know who framed you?"

"Yes."

"Who?," demanded The Merlin.

"Lady Winifred of Bainbridge and her lover Sir Michael."

Another Council member spoke up, "The same Sir Michael you killed with your feet as you were bound hand and mouth."

"Yes."

"The Lady Bainbridge's step-brother," stated Ancient Mia.

He sobbed, "Yes."

The Merlin commanded that Harry remove the skull from the truth circle. "Hrothbert of Bainbridge, we the Council resend your sentence. No one shall be your Master, it shall take time but we will free you of the curse. Worden Morgan take the skull…"

"No!" he shouted, "Harry, I chose to stay with Harry. Let him be the keeper of my skull till you find a way to lift the curse."

"If that is your wish," said the Merlin waving the Warden away.

With that he went back into his skull.

It was three days before he left his skull again.

When he did it was to find the lab in complete disarray.

Looking over the books scattered every where he saw that that Harry was working on his curse.

"Bob there you are I wanted you to look at some thing, I think it will work what do you think."

"Of What, Harry?"

Harry placed a tome in front of him. It was new a book, it could not be ten years old. He stuck his head in to read it quickly.

"Hells bell, Harry you must have been working on my curse for ten years. If the council had ever found this."

"It was worth it."

"This was why you wanted to legalize me."

Harry was grinning. "Free of the curse, and while not mortal at least able to be corporal."

He was in shock. He could not believe the danger Harry had taken. No wait this was Harry of course he would do this. He should be furious, but he would not ruin this for Harry. He would in the future insure that Harry did not take such needless risks.

Even if he had to sit on him.

* * *


End file.
